hello how are you fine thanks
this is a little thing. i am working on big things which take a lot longer which is why i'm such a terrible uploader. anyway it's an experiment and as such, there's more i wanted to do with it but i'm usually pushed for time, all the time. it contains a lot of embarrassing feelings but supposedly it's great when you get "raw" and "humiliate yourself", it's good for your soul and makes more interesting work. if you want to see tiddly little bits i do in between animations (so, scrappy drawings and newly, gifs!) my tumblr is beccahyman.tumblr.com dot tumblr dot co dot you kay forward slash tumblr

if you can't hear or don't want to hear my voice, the transcript is here:

I've been meaning to write to you. One dumb terminal to another. I wanted to tell you that I feel disconnected, like a pulled plug or a faulty wire, but I didn't know how to say it without sounding fucking stupid. It's not as simple as being sad or angry, though I feel those things too. I think it's because I split myself into too many parts and gave them away to too many people and now I've become pixelated

We are all a series of selves, you know, one for your friends, one for your family, one for online, one for real life; one self for strangers and one self for people who can reel off facts about you and still not know who the fuck you are. It's exhausting. But I know everyone else is fraying away too. Dying and being reborn every day, matter and data.

I think I wanted to say I was sorry. Sorry for thinking I was the only one disintegrating on a daily basis, sorry for not logging in, sorry for being temporary.

To people I never talk to anymore. To the regulars at bus stops, to the wrong number phone callers, to the friends of friends of friends. To the acquaintances I put my face on for: you exist, and sometimes you cross my mind and I remember you with fondness. Other times I can't fucking stand to be around you.

I'm angry. Why are we obligated to be like this? Why are we still saying and typing hey how are you fine thanks and going back to live in the internal world? I don't know who the fuck you are. There are so many of you. There are traces of you everywhere. You exist in the flesh and on file, on other people's lips and through hyperlinks and on profiles and in headshots and you oscillate though these selves all the time and you get so unhappy walking around in fragments.

Why doesn't anyone say I can't stand this I can't stand being a million people I just want to be one, one true self; to live all at once; to not lie; to not ask hey how are you, but who are you -- and not who are you today or who were yesterday but who are you always? who are you in the dark and who are you without a body? to all of you and all of me, who are only just learning to speak. to all of us living in the internal world. I have been meaning to write to you.

Loading more stuff…

Hmm…it looks like things are taking a while to load. Try again?

Loading videos…